


It all started with a misplaced tube of lube.

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Other: See Story Notes, challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 07:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/795640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of responses to a Senad challenge by various authors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It all started with a misplaced tube of lube.

## It all started with a misplaced tube of lube.

by Various

Please send any comments to the individual authors. Thanks!

I don't think there are any particular warnings required for these snippets, other than maybe --   
1\. not betad   
2\. don't eat or drink anything while reading them

* * *

wod (wod@squidge.org) 

**THE CHALLENGE**

Never chat with Gryph after midnight; all the emoticons somehow turn into plot bunnies. Here's one looking for a good home, or two, or ten. 

Write a story that starts with the line: "It all started with a misplaced tube of lube." 

* * *

Jane Mailander (j_mailander@idiom.com) 

**SNOWBALL**

It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. 

Jim and Blair went hunting in two different directions. Both were naked. Both were pissed. It was 8:42 p.m. 

Blair pushed aside a stack of papers on his office chair, sneezed, glared at the pile, and hunted around for its accordion folder. 

Jim lifted a sofa cushion, grimaced in disgust at the detritus he uncovered, and headed for the vacuum cleaner. 

By 3 a.m. the loft was spotless. The kitchen floor gleamed, as did the windows and the bathroom fixtures. The rugs had had the dust pummeled out of them and the upholstery hid nothing horrifying. Books lined the bookshelves in horizontal stacks instead of forming vertical piles on every flat surface; they also bore their own strong-colored spines and not the soft pastels caused by dust buildup. Floppy disks were labeled and put away in their locked storage unit and drawer. 

Jim and Blair met at the kitchen table, now smelling faintly of Murphy's Oil Soap. Both men were still naked. They were also exhausted, and had slightly damp and wrinkly fingers redolent of Lime-Away, bleach and vinegar. They looked at each other. 

"Didn't find it," Blair said. 

"Me neither," said Jim. 

Despair in his aspect, Blair half-raised his hands. "The night's shot. And we didn't once think about getting our damn clothes on and driving down to the store to get a new tube?" 

Jim worked out a shoulder-ache from moving the furniture during his vacuuming frenzy. "That would have been too much work." 

Blair shook his head. "Oh God, we _must_ be married." 

Jim cocked his chin in a shrug. "We're still up. What say we round out the night and balance the checkbook?" 

A second's pause. "Okay." 

Blair headed to the immaculate kitchen to brew up some tea while Jim got out the receipts. 

the end 

* * *

wendy (laser6@earthlink.net) 

It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. 

thank every god that ever was that the hospital had a suitable solvent, and being able to dial down the pain was certainly a blessing, but oh, the humiliation! 

he was afraid his partner would never forgive him. he was certain he'd never forgive himself. and how many kinds of idiot did he feel like to have not noticed that the super-glue packaging was the same size and shape? 

* * *

Aouda (aoudafogg@yahoo.com) 

**GLIDE**

It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. 

They both saw it at the same time. 

Unfortunately, the sighting occurred at the same time Simon walked around the couch and into sight of said tube. 

Blair and Jim looked at each other, torn; did they let it lie and hope that Simon just didn't notice, or risk drawing attention to it by trying to hide it? 

A bit embarrassed despite himself, the Guide grinned sheepishly at his Sentinel and tried to figure out exactly how the tube had gotten there. Then it came to him. This morning! He'd been pounced by a Sentinel entranced by his new sweater. 

They'd remembered to right the coffee table as they dashed out the door with seconds to spare, but clearly they had forgotten one little detail. 

Sigh. 

Now what? 

Blair shrugged at his partner. 

Jim shrugged back, and oh, so casually, walked over to the chair. Then, under the same guise of casualness, kicked the tube under with his heel. 

Sadly, whether it was a case of Jim just not knowing his strength or of Jim forgetting that this chair didn't have a back underneath, the tube of lube went flying across the floor, making a slight skittering sound as it landed against a bookcase. 

They both froze: Blair, half-standing/half-sitting in the other chair, Jim, hand clenched on the arms of his chair. 

Simon just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, they do call it Astroglide!" 

* * *

Bluesky (Desidera21@aol.com) 

It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. 

Jim with his very Sentinel sensitive butt felt a bump under the couch cushion. Lifting it, he discovered an unopened box of KY. Amused, he placed it on the coffee table, making a note to talk to Blair about it later. 

Getting comfortable, Jim stretched out, only to find another small lump interfering with his evening TV viewing. The second cushion revealed a box of condoms, Un lubed, no Noxel9, hypoallergenic latex free. Jim frown, confused. He had seen the brand of condoms that Blair used. This was not it. Shrugging he added it to the KY on the table, and stretched out watching the old John Wane western. True Grit. 

~)~)~)~ 

Blair tried to come in softly. The TV was still on. That was odd. He was still distracted by the E. Mail that he had gotten. Disturbing. Scary. He wanted to talk to Jim about it. Some young, possibly freshman Coed had fixed her (or his) sights on Blair to be the one to teach them about love, and sex. The footnote about the Karma Sutra with page numbers was down right, well spooky. Most of them were ones that he had done before. B. J. Sandburg had been his undergraduate for more than one reason. 

He winced a bit at the memory, as he reread the note. 

Dear Teacher. 

I have learned more from you than I have ever thought possible. I feel you eyes on me all the time, watching over. You make me feel safe, Your existence makes it possible for me to live, to explore all of my gifts, and to realize just how wonderful the world is with someone like you in it. 

It has come time for us to take that next step. I want to know your body, as much as you know me, and my mind. I can see it in your eyes, smell it on you, how some times you want more than what we have now. I think that it is time. I will make the preparations, you have but to take what is fully yours, what was always yours. I ask you to guide me in this, as you have guided me so far, teaching me the fullness of this gift. 

Your Student, 

[Weird looking symbol] 

Cats Paw 

The weird symbol finely solidified into meaning. It was a clumsy paw print. A Jaguar's. 

Blair looked up from the print out, surprised to find Jim asleep on the Couch. Not only asleep, but not waking up when he came in. 

But it was the items on the coffee table that undid him. 

A virgin box of condoms and an unopened box of KY. 

Blair's world shifted in it axes, much like what may have happened to create the Ice age, 

Blair looked over his sleeping partner, and started to shake, the print out that Jim must have sent him fluttered to the floor. 

(to be continued?) 

* * *

Sheryl (Sheryl_852@hotmail.com) 

"It all started with a misplaced tube of lube." 

"JIM!" Blair's eyes went wide and he lunged, slapping a hand over his partner's mouth. "Don't listen to him, Simon. He's...he's...having a...a...well, it's a sentinel thing." 

Jim tilted his head, giving Blair a look of patient exasperation, then removed the hand from his mouth. "Sandburg, what'd I tell you about washing these after using the latrine?" 

Blair pulled his hand back and looked at it, then wiped it on his jeans. "Jim..." he said warningly. 

"Chief, it's okay. Just let me handle everything." 

"I-I don't think so, Jim." 

"Don't you trust me, Chief? I'm hurt." Jim sniffled, giving his partner a sad-eyed look. 

"Wow! Look at the time!" Blair looked at his wrist, although there was no watch and smiled at the police captain. "It's pretty late, Simon. Why don't we discuss this in the morning?" 

Simon's expression had switched on and off, going from annoyance to confusion, right now he was scowling. "Sandburg, don't you think I know what time it is? _I_ was the one called out of my nice, warm bed! I was the one who was woke up in the middle of the night to come down here to bail my best detective and his...partner out of _JAIL_!" 

"Simon, man, you really need to calm down. Just relax and breathe, in and out...in and out." 

**"SANDBURG!"**

Jim smirked at Blair then he cleared his throat. "As I was saying, we were in bed, about to well, you know, sir and I said to Blair: Chief, did you get the lube?" 

Simon scowled deeper and glanced at Sandburg, who had closed his eyes and was turning a lovely shade of fuchsia. 

"Well," Jim continued, "He hands me the tube and I didn't really look at it, you know, sir? Heat of the moment and all that." 

Simon really didn't want to hear anymore. He waved a hand, acknowledging whatever it was that Ellison had said and wished for Scotty to beam him up, right about now. 

"So, how was I supposed to know it was pineapple flavored? I guess I just went a little nuts, that's all. You know how I hate pineapple, Simon." 

Yes, Simon knew. That was the reason he, himself, loved pineapple. He knew anything pineapple he brought into his office was safe from the clutches of Jim Ellison. Okay, so what was Sandburg thinking buying Ellison pineapple stuff? "Sandburg, you know he hates pineapple." 

Sandburg opened his eyes and shot the captain a look of disbelief. "Simon! I thought it said apple! I was in a hurry!" 

"Next time you'll better be more certain of what you're buying, right?" Simon instructed him. "Can we go home now?" 

"What?" Blair shouted, outraged. "Look, I hate going in there as much as he does! But, Mr. Tough guy over there, makes me do it because he's too embarrassed! 'It's just a video store, Sandburg! I'm a cop. It won't look good if I go in there.' Well, I don't exactly like going in there either!" He poked Jim hard in the chest. "The guy behind the counter always grabs my ass when I go to walk out!" 

"He does WHAT?" 

"You heard me, Mr. Sentinel." 

Jim ground his teeth together, loudly and Simon wiped a hand over his face. He really wanted not to be there. 

"Okay, let's get this straight, can we? Because, I'd really like to go home, if you don't mind." He smiled grimly at the two men before him and thought he'd just as well leave them here for the night, except that it wouldn't look good to the Chief, or the Mayor, or anyone else he'd have to answer to. "So, Ellison here had a reaction...an allergic reaction to something pineapple flavored that you gave him. Right Sandburg?" 

Blair frowned. 

"Right?" 

"Yeah, whatever." 

"Good. That's our story. Now, can we get out of here?" 

"Yes, sir!" Jim said happily. "By the way, sir, I know how much you like pineapple. I was wondering if you'd like to have the..." 

Simon bit his cigar in half. 

"Uh...never mind, sir." 

~)~)~)~ 

Part II 

"It all started with a misplaced tube of lube." 

"I don't want to hear this, I don't want to hear this." Simon covered his ears to be sure there was no mistaking that he didn't want to hear this. 

"Jim!" Blair slugged him in the arm. "He said he doesn't want to hear it!" 

"I'm just stating the facts, Sandburg." 

"I'm sure he doesn't want the facts." Sandburg looked at the police captain. "Do you want the facts, Simon?" 

Simon shook his head. He most certainly did not want the facts. 

"See Jim, he doesn't want the facts, so shut. Up." 

"But, this is an official case," Jim argued, obviously unable to grasp his partner's much loved concept of obfuscation. "He'll need all the facts for the report." 

"The DA went with the allergic reaction excuse, the charges were dropped, there is no need for further details," Simon growled, "end of story." 

"But, sir, Sandburg misplaced the lube three days ago," Jim continued, ignoring the protests of his companions. 

" _I_ misplaced it?" Blair cried out." Why do you always blame everything on me?" 

Jim ignored this, too. "So, after three days, I'm sure you can understand that we were a little anxious and unfortunately a little careless, too. Any other time, I'd have been able to smell that pineapple a mile away...but _three days_ , Simon." 

It had been three months since Simon had gotten any -- three long, dry months -- so no, he didn't understand. He didn't understand any of it -- in fact, he didn't even want to understand. But, to admit that would be admitting that he was here right now, having this conversation, which he wasn't. "Goodnight, Ellison, Sandburg. And by the way, you're welcome." 

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, sir. Thank you, sir." 

"Yeah, thanks Simon." 

"We need to pick up some more vinegar on the way home, Chief. I can still smell pineapple." 

"Really? Well, I'm sure you won't be able to smell it from where you'll be sleeping tonight." 

The two men continued walking as Simon quickly headed for his car. If he could just get home, get back to sleep, then when he woke up in the morning, maybe this whole night will have all been some strange dream? 

"Wait a minute..." Jim stopped in the middle of the parking garage. 

"We don't have a way home!" Blair finished. 

Simon hesitated a fraction of a second, then smiled, got in his car and politely waved as he drove past. No more late night Mexican take-out for him. 

* * *

alyjude (alyjude@sbcglobal.net) 

It all started out with a misplaced tube of lube. 

Not mine. His. 

You can see where this is going, right? No? Okay. Remember Ellison rule number 1? No sex in the loft? Yeah, that one. Yes, I know he's broken it a couple of times (Lila comes immediately to mind as I make the sign of the -- Star of David) but overall, since he made the rule, which was aimed at me and my exaggerated libido, he's been pretty good about keeping the rule himself. And considering that this is _his_ home, well, you can see where I'm headed. 

I should start at the beginning. 

I was born in a hospital (don't look so surprised. what, you thought I was dropped in a field?) on May 24, 1969. 

You know, I probably shouldn't start back that far. 

Okay, let's start today. 

It was a bright, sunny, bad day at the university. Lots of complaints, lots of classes (most of them paybacks) and lots of grading. By the time I was ready to make my escape, I had one stinker of a headache and it was fast making like a migraine. I figured if I hurried, I'd get home before the jagged triangle ruined my vision. 

I just made it. 

I unlocked the door, grateful that Jim wasn't home (in spite of the migraine, I'd been able to notice the absence of Jim's truck - hey, I'm an observer, you know?) so that I could collapse in peace. Jim doesn't really know about the migraines. A little left-over gift from a recent -- swim -- in a university landmark. 

As I pushed open the door, I heard something and looked up. I paused -- then stepped back and checked the apartment number on the door. I nodded, then moved back inside. I figured if what I was seeing, was really what I was seeing, then either I was in the wrong apartment, or I wasn't seeing what I was seeing. But the door definitely had the numbers 3-0-7 on it. 

I shut my eyes, then opened them. Nothing had changed. You're dying to know, aren't you? Okay, here's what I saw: 

A tall, well-built man wearing midnight blue satin boxers and a partially unbuttoned pale blue oxford shirt. Oh, and one white sock. He had dark curly hair, short, and because he was staring at me -- open-mouthed -- and bug-eyed, I could see he had dark blue eyes and perfect straight white teeth. His arm was stretched out in front of him, palm up. 

There was another man in the room too. I'm betting you can guess who. 

_He_ was shirtless, slackless, sockless and shoeless. _He_ had on nothing but his cute, tight plaid boxers. _He_ was tearing apart the couch. Two cushions had already been tossed and he had the third cushion in his hand. 

Yeah. Jim. 

"Lose something?" I cleverly asked. 

The gorgeous hunk with the dark blue eyes blinked. Then he cleverly said, "Um, no. And you must be -- Blair?" 

"I must be," I added, equally cleverly. Then I turned to Jim and smiling (in spite of the migraine now threatening to take over my body), said, "What did you lose, Jimbo?" 

Jim straightened and dropped the cushion. His whole body, I'm happy to say, flushed a nice shade of red. "Um," he said, as he swallowed what could only be described as a watermelon, "lube. I thought I had a tube of lube," he pointed down, "here." 

"Well, hold that thought, be right back." 

I moved into my room, walked to the nightstand, took out a bottle of Glide and a package of condoms, then walked back out and over to my nearly naked partner. 

"Go to town. I've got more. If you're interested in flavored, well, feel free to help yourself in my room -- nightstand." Then I shook the condoms under his nose and said, "Play safe, play happy, boys." 

I walked out. After Jim took the supplies. 

I also -- I'm ashamed to say -- slammed the door. 

Which really hurt my head, let me tell you. 

I wisely took the elevator down, then stumbled out and onto the sidewalk. I tried to take several deep breaths, but couldn't even manage one. You're thinking it was the headache, aren't you? It was -- and it wasn't. 

See, I'm kind of in love with _him_. Jim. Kind of. Mostly. A whole lot. And see, I know what to do with lube, but until that moment, when he said he was looking for his lost lube, I didn't know he did. But he does. Obviously. We both do. But haven't -- with each other. Duh. But now he's going to -- with this tall, blue-eyed god who isn't -- me. You know? 

Man, I'd give anything to know what's going on upstairs. Or not. 

~)~)~)~ 

Jim winced when the door slammed behind Sandburg. He closed his eyes and focused his hearing, then winced again. 

"Chuck, this may be a bad time--" 

"Why? What's the problem? Thanks to your roommate, we now have everything, and more, that we need." 

"Look, I can't really explain, so just let me say -- Blair has a bad headache, I've got to get his medicine and he has lube. See?" 

"Ah. I see." 

~)~)~)~ 

Yep, I'd really give anything to know what's going on up there - or not. 

So now you now how it started. The end of my life as I know it. I'm about to partake of one helluva major pity party so you might want to skip out now. It won't be pretty, trust me. And I think I've lost my car. I know it was here somewhere-- 

"Chief?" 

This is not good. One is not supposed to hear voices just because he, meaning me, has a migraine. 

"Chief, stop. You're hurting and you don't know where you're going." 

"Do too." 

"Do not." 

"I'm going -- to school." 

So there. Take that you -- you -- _voice_. 

"The university is behind us, Chief. You keep walking and you'll be taking a long walk off of a short pier. I have your medication, now stop moving." 

Hell. What do I have to lose? I stop. A shadow looms and I look up to see Jim's face, Jim's _worried_ face, gazing down at me. In his hand: my medication. 

Now how the hell did he know about-- 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah, buddy, it's me. Hold out your hand." 

Who am I to argue? I hold out my hand and he puts one grey pill into it, then puts a bottled water in my other hand. Man, this guy thinks of everything. I could, like, love him forever. 

"That's it, swallow. Good boy. Now let's go home, get you into bed and when the migraine is gone -- we'll use the lube. Okay?" 

He should have said that _after_ I'd swallowed the water - but alas, he didn't. Now he's all wet. But he's smiling. My Jim is smiling, so we head back. 

He takes me upstairs and I have to admit that the way his hand lingers on the small of my back, well, it kind of sends a charge of electricity down my legs--then his arm is around my shoulder and he sits me down on the edge of his bed. With my eyes closed -- the light hurts too bad -- I just let myself feel. Jim is taking off my shoes and socks, then my jacket and two shirts, and finally my jeans. 

"Okay, lie back now and let me cover you--" 

Who am I to argue? Again? 

I can hear his footsteps, then he's moving around downstairs, then he's coming back up and the bed sinks and he's under the covers with me. I manage to roll over and he's there, arms open. I slide right in. 

"I pulled the shades, Chief. Just -- sleep. Let it go and sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." 

"lube too?" I whisper. 

I can hear him chuckle through his chest. "Yeah, Chief, lube too." 

"don't lose it." 

"Never again, babe, never again." 

That is _so_ cool. But he's using it first -- on himself. So there. 

Finis 

* * *

Sorka (sorka42@earthlink.net) 

It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. 

Blair came home from a late night session at the university, tired and ready to kick back and relax for what remained of the evening. He didn't expect Jim to be home for at least another hour. He was covering for Detective Johnson, who was out with the stomach flu. 

He dropped his back and threw his jacket at the coat rack, not really caring that he missed. Moving to put his laptop on the kitchen table, a white object on the floor caught his eye. A white tube of Astroglide was resting against the wall between the door to his bedroom and the stairs that led up to Jims. Blair blinked in confusion, wondering how it had gotten there. He looked up and saw one of Jim's pillows was resting half way over the rail. It didn't take a genius to know where it had come from. 

Smiling Blair decided to save his friend the embarrassment of knowing his stuff had fallen off the bed. He jogged up the stairs and pulled the pillow away from its precarious perch and set it back down on the bed. Its movement shifted another object free. Blair grabbed it before it too could fall over the edge, and froze when he realized what he had in his hand. It was a dildo, not just any run of the mill one either. It was a work of art, smooth long, well shaped, and made of glass. 

His heart pounded in his chest, this was like nothing he had ever seen before. He dropped it back on the bed when he realized he had been caressing its length. He blushed as he realized he was hard, not just at the sight of such an elegant sex toy, but at the thought of it being used by Jim. 

Then the anger started, not only was Jim, possibly, gay, and never told him. But he was using something that could potentially injure him severely. Glass was fragile, even if that dildo was made of some pretty heavy stuff. How could Jim be so careless? 

The rattle of the door handle told Blair that Jim was home early. Not nearly calm enough by half to think calmly about the situation, Blair stomped down the stairs to confront his roommate. Jim entered the loft to be confronted by one very irate Blair. "You've got a lot of explaining to do, Jim." Blair confronted him, damning evidence tightly clutched in his hand. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jim shut the door behind him and stared at him in surprise, which swiftly turned into horror when he recognized what Blair was holding. "Oh shit." 

"Yeah, oh shit." Blair growled. "You better have a good explanation for this, man." 

"How did you get that?" Jim asked weakly, his face going pale. 

"I found it when I was returning your lube to your room after it fell off the bed." 

"So that's where that went." Jim mumbled absently. "Sorry." 

"Sorry? Sorry?" Blair began to pace. "Your gay and you never told. You put your life at risk just to get off and all you can say is you're sorry?" 

Jim went from scared to pissed in 2.5 seconds. "Now just a damn minute, you never asked if I was gay, and the last time I checked you said that a person's sexuality was there own business. And what makes you think I'm putting my life at risk? Just because I occasionally like a little anal sex?" 

"Okay, forget the part about your sexuality. How on earth could you think that playing with some cheap novelty made of glass could possibly be safe? " Blair handed Jim the dildo, which he swiftly grabbed. 

"It's not some cheap novelty. I paid over $300 for it. It's made of Boronex glass, the same stuff they make Pyrex cookware out of." Jim said, caressing this phallus unconsciously. 

Blair blinked, his anger fading. "You paid $300 for a dildo?" 

Jim sighed. "Can we have his conversation somewhere more comfortable?" 

"Oh, sure." Blair followed Jim over to the couch. The sat down on opposite sides, the object of there discussion resting on the coffee table next to them. 

"Remember a few months back, I started to react to the latex gloves we use at crime scenes?" Jim began. "Yeah," Blair nodded. "You nearly scratched the skin off your hands before we figured it out." 

"You bought me vinyl gloves, but you forgot about the sexual side effects." Jim sighed and admitted his problem. "I can't where condoms, unless they are natural, and those don't protect against anything. Which means sex is out of the question unless I want to risk catching something. Then there is the fact that ninety-nine percent of all sex toys are either latex or some other kind of rubber, so I can't risk using them." 

"Oh, man. I'm sorry, Jim." Blair placed his hand on Jim's shoulder in sympathy. "You should have said something." 

The look Jim gave him silenced him quickly. "Anyway, I asked a friend of mine, if there were any alternatives, and she told me about these. They are hypoallergenic and dishwasher safe. Hell, I could even autoclave it if I had to." 

"So, it's safe?" Blair asked again. 

"It's safe, so long as you don't throw it at anything." Jim assured him. He looked down and added. "I'm sorry if this upset you. I guess I should have told you about my sexuality, but I didn't see any point in making you feel uncomfortable." 

"So, you just hid who you are from me, in hopes I wouldn't freak out?" Blair asked. "You think I'm that insensitive?" 

"No, but why take the chance?" Jim shrugged. "I lost enough friends because of it. I couldn't lose you." 

"You need me that much?" Blair stared at him, trying not to feel guilty. 

"I love you." Jim replied. "The rest is just extra." 

"I love you too, you know." Blair admitted. 

"I know, but just not that way." Jim sighed. 

"Bullshit." Blair launched himself at Jim, wrapping his arms around Jim's neck and kissing him for all he was worth. He pulled back and smiled at Jim's stunned expression. "If I'd known you swung, I'd have given up the dating circuit a long time ago." Jim didn't respond in words, he simply kissed Blair bad with as much passion as he could. 

The End 

PS: the Boronex sex toys are real, I saw them on HBO's Real Sex. They are made by Asstroknots.com. They are handmade and very expensive, but truly beautiful works of art. 

* * *

End It all started with a misplaced tube of lube. by Various: archive@trickster.org

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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